Hear Me Now
by CleverDucky
Summary: Because he is nothing more and nothing less than the one intimidating factor straddling the line of self-accomplishment and self-destruction. Martin Keamy-centric.


Hear Me Now

**oOo**

He likes to think that he's untouchable. He likes to think that no matter what he does, what he says, no one can cut him down or call him out. He likes to think he lacks the normal tangibility that sticks to a person's skin like sweat. It's that abstract way of thinking that sets him apart from the others, that gently plucks him from the herd of sheep and douses him in black only to set him right smack in the middle again.

It's a challenge bleating to the Big Bad Wolf, "Come get me, fucker. I want you to!" because he's not afraid. He never has been and, really, why should he be? He's a beast, an intimidating factor stalking around with the sharpest of eyes, the most taunting of grins, and the most secretive of airs. He's unpredictable which has, on more than one occasion, sent the people around him running for the hills, terrified that he might snap and go on a killing spree.

He laughs at them, mocks them, belittles them to within an inch of their meager lives because he _can. _Because there is nothing they can do about it and even if they tried, he'd crush them so very easily.

He's a masochist. He always gets what he wants. He's the leader, the top dog, the boss. Everyone answers to him, everyone looks to him, even if they hate him they cannot help the quick glance shot at him to gauge his reactions to their self. They need that small acknowledgment, even if it's only a careless shrug, a blank stare, or a dismissing wave of his hand. Hell, even cutting eyes that are decidedly glacial are taken like precious jewels.

It can never be said that he doesn't know what he's doing. There is no room for doubt when it comes to Martin Keamy, he won't allow it. Either you follow his orders (not necessarily _trust _his orders since honestly he doesn't give a shit) or you get taken care of. And, usually, when the latter is applied, the party getting taken care of isn't seen again.

By nature he's a killer, the perfect assassin. He doesn't let pathetic, stupid things like emotion rule his judgment. He's seen what it does to people, what it does to everyone else around that one person. In the end, feeling anything will only get you killed. So he relies on the only thing he has learned to trust without question. His instincts; himself. Because, in the end, that's all that's left to rely on, to believe in.

Often he thinks he's dead (not often enough) when he looks down at the lifeless, glassy eyes of his latest job and doesn't think of anything except, "I need a shower.". He used to be frightened by it, that he didn't care about the dead child beneath his hands or the woman that had screamed for the mercy he refused to give. It used to scare the shit out of him. But not anymore.

He wasn't always the ruthless, bitter, cold man he is now. He _used _to feel. But that was then, this is now. Now is when he can shoot a teenage girl in the head and speak calmly to the dead girl's father afterwards. Now is when he can slit a doctor's throat without a second thought. Now is when he can pull the trigger on his gun and shoot a man he had unconciously considered a mutual friend. Now is when he's a force to be reckoned with, unable to be conquered.

Now is when he's the epitome of every man, woman, and child's nightmare come to life.

There is one thing about him that is able to be defined as non-lethal, though. Possibly the only thing that still proves he's human (however slightly), depending upon the observer. It's his undeniable ability to enrapture and hold the attention of a million people without saying a word. The lift of his shoulders, the relaxed or clenched state of his hands, the hardness in his eyes--they all speak volumes without sounds.

But when he does talk the outcome is even more intense. He can scream a thousand words without pausing for a breath. Or he can whisper just one.

_Follow._

And that is when all freedom of thought, freedom of individuality, freedom to _be_ is lost. Because by then, Martin Keamy is pulling the strings of his latest puppet.

* * *

**A/N: **I'll be the first to admit that as soon as Martin Keamy and Captain Gault showed their faces on LOST, I hopped aboard any ship with their names tacked on. I guess my attraction for anti-heroism is still going strong and apparently doesn't just apply to Alex Mercer anymore. Ah well, what can you do? Anyone else get severely pissed when BOTH of them died? And then they had to go and do that whole teaser thing with Keamy by bringing him back ONLY TO KILL HIM AGAIN! DAMN YOU SAYID!....Every character I like is dying, I'm almost too worried to admit I like Jack and Sawyer--AGH! If they die now, I swear to the high powers I will hunt me down some LOST directors and bury their faces in molten lava.

Ahem...review please?


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